Maybe Later
by Emery Winchester Odyssey
Summary: When Nora Singer gets a warning from Castiel that Dean is in danger she rushes to save him, only... does he really need her help? Oneshot.


Cases.

Cases.

Cases.

Was it ever gonna to stop? It's like all the evil things in the world had a meeting and decided which few months to raise all kinds of hell in. I sat in the armchair of my father's living room, reading over everything he had on supernatural arsonists. NOTHING…that's what we had on them… Well nothing that would really help anyway. I sat the old leather-bound book on the table and ran my fingers through my messy brown hair. I glanced at the clock in the corner of the room; the glowing red numbers read 1:58. Nearly two in the morning, and I hadn't gotten anything accomplished. Dizzily, I made my way to the kitchen sink and filled a glass with water. I barely had the glass raised to my lips when I heard my name being called behind me. Not having any sleep, it scared me so bad I almost dropped the cup back into the sink. "Cas, what'd I tell you about that? You know, Dean's right about that cat bell—" My voice faded off as I turned to look at him and saw that his face held fear, concern and urgency, "Cas what's wrong?" I walked over to him with cautious eyes. "Dean is in trouble. He needs your help—" He didn't even get to finish the sentence before I dumped my water in the sink and took off out the door, still putting my jacket on.

The drive to their motel was the longest five minutes of my life. They were staying close so Bobby could help them with a local case. All I could think was 'Oh god, what if he's not there' and 'what did he get himself into this time?' My wheels screeched as I turned into the parking lot and jumped out of the car, almost forgetting to turn it off. I silently picked the lock before slowly pushing open the door, my gun held high. All was well, Dean asleep in his bed, no shadows where they shouldn't be…what in the world, Cas? I was about to walk back out when I heard Dean grunt lowly. My eyebrows scrunched together as I looked back at him. He grunted again, louder this time, his head rolling to the side. My foot went back a step and closed the door to shut out the street lights. As if on key, as soon as I walked to his side, he started talking between grunts, yelling, pleading for help. "No, no, Please… ugh… NO, Help me, Please!" His eyes shut tighter; his whimpering between words tearing at my heart. He looked helpless: his arms sprawled out, what looked like a tear coming down the side of his face…I had never seen him like this. I had never seen Dean without his wall to hide these emotions. "Dean, wake up. Please, come on Dean, wake up!" I tried to shake him awake, but I was being shaken more by the fear that was also covering my body with cold chills. He jumped to a sitting position, sweat beading on his forehead. His eyes locked with mine and, for a moment, the fear lingered. But when he came to his senses, he wiped off his face. "What are you doing here? Why are in my room?" He questioned before looking down to make sure he still had clothes on, "Nothing happened last night, did it?" "No. And it doesn't matter right now…tell me what was going on in your dream." He just stared at me for a minute before rolling his eyes and walking into the bathroom to wash off his face. "Dean!—" "Just go! I've told you before, I don't talk about this! I thought you understood that? It's nothing! Just— just go, Taylor." He asked of me. "No. It's not gonna be that easy, Dean. What I saw back there was not 'nothing'. You need talk about this… you know, get it off you chest! Then I'll leave—," "NO! Taylor you're gonna leave now or so help me god—Why are you here anyway?" He hollered at me. "Cause Cas told me you were in trouble! Jack-ass…" I yelled back, whispering the last part on my way to the car. I saw regret in his eyes as he stood at the door trying to wave me down, but I was already out of the parking lot and I wasn't turning around.

Days went by before I would even look at Dean. Sam and I still researched together and of course I told him what happened, but if Dean walked into the room, I would leave. My dad, Bobby, told me to get over it, that Dean was probably just out of it (even though when I first told him, he was mad as hell), but it was more than that to me…when I left his room that night, I felt like I had been punched in the face and I wasn't letting it go that easy. Speaking of that night, Cas had gone AWOL and no one had seen him since he told me to help Dean. I was writing on my notepad trying to come up with theories as to what this creature could be when Dean walked in. I sighed, gathered my stuff and tried to push past him. "Move." I asked. "No. It's not gonna be that easy, Taylor. You need to talk about this… you know, get it of your chest." He smirked, knowing he had almost completely stated my exact statement. I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile at his sarcasm. "Did you really care enough to come to my motel and break in at 2:00 in the morning because someone told you I was in trouble?" He got serious suddenly, inching closer as he spoke. "Of course, Dean. I thought I was going to lose you-" I was cut off his hand on the side of my face, his lips on mine. I pulled back, though I didn't want to. "Maybe I did get a little carried away that night." He said resting his forehead on mine. "A little?" "Okay I lost my damn mind," he smirked. Castiel appeared silently in the corner of the room, "I was worried that this wasn't going to happen." "You came to me that morning and said that on purpose, didn't you?" I said astonished: 1) of seeing him and 2) of what he did. "I may not be a cupid, but I know when people are supposed to be together." He smiled before disappearing from our sight. Dean drew my attention back to him, "How about I finally tell you what happened in my dream." He finished with a sweet smile. I kissed him quickly on the lips, "Maybe later…" I whispered before pulling myself back to him.


End file.
